Author: Kip Deeds

Currently, I am working in an office supply store. Each month a brand of pen is featured at the register and are sold individually. This is a good way to observe pen testing habits. Under less scrutiny, in other parts of the store, test drawings at times include anatomical studies and the kind of writing reserved for bathroom stalls. People behave much differently when they feel they are being watched. At the register customers are mostly determining if the pen works well. My hunch is that writing and highlighting are effective uses for these pens. Other uses exhibit marginal quality (e.g. lack of: permanence, line variety, etc.), whereas for drawing, decoration, and other activities art supplies would likely be a better solution. I did my own testing to gain a better understanding.

Among other scribbles, my trials included drawing a face on one of the scratch papers. Hoping customers would “improve” my drawing, I waited for others to add content. However, a curious thing happened, people no longer wanted to use that test sheet and would skip to the next page. My thought is that either people are uncomfortable with the idea of defiling a human/animal form (particularly when they might get caught), or they often want their mark to be both unique and anonymous. Generally, drawing in public seems to dramatically change habits. I wonder how knowledge of this inhibition would yet further change one’s drawing sensibility?

Although my hobby of collecting postage stamps has waned in the last two years, I still find stamps that are stirring. More often than not, I am moved by the interaction between the cancelation and the image. A successful transformation requires adding qualities in a way that penetrates the space between calculated presentation and the moments where anything can happen (i.e. the act of cancelation). Here the sum can feel greater than the parts and something new is offered. The occurrence of particular cancelations can seem like miracles. When I started to collage stamps into my artwork, I began to receive gifts. One such gift was a recycled “Miracle Whip” jar (another miracle) that contained stamps. This is where I currently put recently found stamps and where the examples above reside. Whether or not the indelible gift of the jar and stamps were coincidental or preordained seems equally plausible. However, what seems more important is that wonder can lead to miracles. The size of the miracle seems less important.

It is amazing how long it can take a tree of this size to grow and how fast it can fall. It seems like nature has a strange way of distributing work. A strong wind can negate years of nurture from the sun and earth. Although this neighborhood monument has toppled, I was also thinking of other structures that tower. For months a little pencil drawing sat dormant on the back of an old business card. This week I added ink and it became a steeple surrounded by symbols. With a mix of chance and care, this steeple grew upward much like a tree but faster. Drawing in this unreserved way (i.e. finding out what a doodle can become) served as a reminder to be open and stretch. By grasping, whether it be a small challenge or for the stars, we learn how far we can reach. If we fall over trying, at least we were not afraid of the winds or self doubt.

Above is the first image from my new camera. As the camera arrived, so did the spring. Though the calendar changed, the leaves have not yet shown their presence. The tail end of winter is still nipping at the branches. I am not a fan of cold weather, but one joy is seeing more of the sky from my window. Sunsets can be spectacular, and the branches form an intricate web against the changing colors in the sky. I will miss this, but one loss rarely comes without a different joy. It is up to us to find harmony and our own joy. This may take practice and persistence, but a song is always in the air. With camera in hand, I will have a new instrument to explore each new day.

It seems there are two ways to make a creative breakthrough. I am not specifically addressing monumental transformations here, but focusing on the idea and excitement behind any work that allows for rewarding (higher level) results. With regard to making a drawing/painting of merit, the following are two paths I see: First, one could make many examples in a more rapid mode and then choose those that perform in an optimum way (this requires some insight, knowledge, and goals). Secondly, One could layer their work in a way that piles decisions until the outcome fits an an expanded concept and vision of the original goal (this can take considerable time and effort).

The drawing above represents the first mode of working. After quickly making twenty portraits, the example above emerged as one of the best and the character also had a regal presence. He seemed born to be a chief that represents wisdom and restraint. Regarding the latter creative method, I am still working on layering creative decisions. I should have at least three works done when the lambs go out.